


Critical Mass

by romanticalgirl



Series: system overload [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid thinks things are settled. Hotch thinks otherwise. (A sequel to <a href="http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/1054978.html">Failsafe</a>, though you don't really have to have read that for this to make sense)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critical Mass

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/)**inlovewithnight** for the beta. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Originally posted 8-27-12

Hotch wakes up in the dark. His head aches and the sheet feels like lead against his skin. He blinks several times to adjust his eyes, letting the objects around him take shape. The hulk in the corner is a closet and the shimmering space in the wall is a mirror. He stares straight ahead until his eyes adjust and the hunched form beside the bed slowly evolves into Reid, eyes closed and book open on his lap, lips parted in the shallow breath of sleep.

"Hospital?"

Reid jerks awake, his book falling unnoticed to the floor. He sits forward in his seat and straightens, his eyes moving over Hotch carefully. "Yeah."

"Where?"

"Memphis." Reid sheds the blanket around his shoulders and grabs a pitcher off the nightstand, pouring a glass of water and guiding the straw to Hotch's mouth. "The rest of the team is back at Quantico."

Hotch drinks and then pushes the straw away. "Why? Why're you here?"

"Well, you were unconscious and I can consult from here on a lot of my stuff. There was a lot of talk about no man left behind and I think Morgan might have said Semper Fi at once. It was awkward."

"You shouldn't have had to stay."

"Hotch." Reid shakes his head and takes the water away, setting the glass on the nightstand again. "We weren't going to leave you alone, and they didn't want to transfer you. It's done."

He nods and finds the button to elevate the bed, letting it lift him into a sitting position. "Did you volunteer?"

"Yeah. Well, yeah. I mean, I used logic to determine that I'd be the best person to stay behind, and got them all to agree, which is the same thing, I think."

Hotch laughs softly, surprised that it doesn't hurt. "Close enough.”

"You remember what happened?"

"Not really." He touches his forehead, feeling the edges of the bandage there. "It's getting embarrassing how much my team keeps getting hurt."

"I think we're okay as long as it's in the line of duty. You should have been fine. The unsub got into a firefight with the SWAT team and you were protecting the girl. He turned his gun on you and got you in the vest, but you were overbalanced and when it hit, you went into the railing and over the side. She fell with you, but you absorbed most of the impact, so you've got a few things broken and you were unconscious for four days."

"Four days. Jack?"

"It's okay. He's with Hayley's sister like usual and Rossi did the soccer game." Reid sits back down, gathering up his book to avoid looking at Hotch. "He called Beth too."

"Oh."

"He didn't know if you guys had plans, and he didn't want her to worry." He sets the book aside and then picks it up again, holding it in his lap like a shield.

"Reid."

"I should get the doctor in here and have her take a look at you."

"Reid." Hotch moves his hand and reaches out, bridging the small gap between the bed and the chair. Reid stares at it as it moves, like it's some sort alien life form or biological experiment. "Don't go, okay?"

"You need to be checked out."

"I need...I need you to stay." Reid sits down in the chair, remaining still. Hotch sighs softly in relief and closes his eyes. "I promise you can get the doctor in here in a minute, just...just not yet."

Reid nods and licks his lips, looking over the top of his glasses at Hotch's still outstretched hand. "I...I could read to you."

"What are you reading?"

"Well, the library at the hospital is pretty bare, and I've finished all the Twilight books, so I'm on Journey to the Center of the Earth."

"You read the Twilight books?"

"Beggars can't be choosers. Garcia said something about an e-reader and your tablet, but, well, technology." He shrugs and turns the book around. "It's pretty good."

"You didn't get much of a childhood, did you?"

"I played baseball and stuff." Reid shifts uncomfortably, and Hotch spreads his hand out, his fingers grazing Reid's arm. "But, no. I guess not like you probably mean."

He turns his hand and lets the back of his fingers brush over the soft white cotton of Reid's shirt. "I'd like it if you read to me."

**

The pain blossoms to life about two chapters in, and he starts to feel all the bruises and abrasions. He sucks in a rough breath and Reid moves his chair closer, his hand rubbing against the bedsheet. Hotch catches it with his own, curving his fingers against Reid's palm. His nails dig in and Reid tenses slightly. Hotch relaxes his grip despite the pain, but Reid adjusts his hand and Hotch realizes he was enjoying the pressure.

"I should get the doctor." Reid sets the book down on his lap and looks over at Hotch. "Get you out of here. Home to Jack."

"Reid."

"Hotch, don't." He stands up, easing his hand free of Hotch's grip. "Whatever this is...was...it's not anymore. You and I were both looking for something and we found it in each other and it's got to stop."

"You were more than just something I found, Reid." Hotch closes his eyes and rests his head back on the pillow. He can feel Reid's gaze, knows he's watching him. "It's not what you make it sound like. It was never that.”

“I know.” Reid shifts from one foot to the other. “But it’s not more than what it was either.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t look away. “I’ll go get the doctor.”

Hotch watches him go, forcing himself to take a deep breath and not call Reid back. Not yet. Not now. When he’s stronger.

**

Hotch gets released as soon as possible, probably sooner than he should. The flight home is on a commercial airline, the two of them seated too close together for comfort. Hotch keeps his eyes closed as much as he can, for Reid’s sake more than his own. He’s talked to Jack and Rossi both on the phone, and once he convinced Reid to go to the hotel and get a decent night’s sleep, he called Beth. He knows he didn’t fool Reid at all, but they both accepted the excuse without comment. Verbally, anyway. Reid’s face is far more expressive than he probably knows.

Hotch loves that and hates it in equal measure. It’s gorgeous to see Reid’s expression open and desperate and raw when Hotch is hurting him, fucking him. In situations like this, though, the only things etched across his features are hurt and pain and disappointment. Worse, Hotch can see Reid sizing himself up and finding himself falling short, failing to live up to whatever standard he’s set for himself.

“Reid.” They’re at the front of the plane, alone in a row. Hotch reaches over and touches Reid’s thigh lightly. Reid’s grip tightens on his book and he holds completely still, even his breath suspended.

Finally he nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Hotch?”

“Do you want some time off?”

Reid stills again, and Hotch realizes he’s said exactly the wrong thing. “Is that a suggestion that I should?”

Backing down now would just make things worse. “Just a couple of days. You haven’t had much sleep this past week.”

“I’ve worked on less.” Reid’s hands curl around the edges of his book and he stares down at the pages. He doesn’t turn them, which is proof he’s not paying any attention to it at all. “Do you want me to transfer out of the unit?”

“What? No. Of course not. You’re integral to the BAU.”

“But you’re concerned about working with me.” He turns his head and looks at Hotch, and Hotch can tell he’s still saying all the wrong things in all the wrong ways. “Or me working with you. To be honest, Hotch, I don’t have a problem in the slightest. If you’re concerned about your own control, I’m afraid I can’t help you.” He sets his book down and stands up, edging out of the row, careful to keep his contact with Hotch at a minimum. “Excuse me.”

Hotch watches him go then lets his head fall back against his seat. Tremors of pain fan out through his head, settling at the back of his eyes. He closes them and rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, trying to push the pain back. When that doesn’t help at all, he reaches into his bag and downs one of his painkillers with a pull from his water bottle. He closes his eyes again, hoping that will make it easier for Reid to ignore Hotch when he comes back.

He wakes up when the descent begins, the slight change in altitude and air pressure jerking him out of his sleep. He glances at Reid’s seat, but it’s empty, the book still where he left it. Hotch sighs and blinks, glancing at his watch. They’re due in Dulles soon, assuming they don’t get rerouted. Turning in his seat, he looks over his shoulder and sees Reid asleep in another seat near the back of first class. Taking another drink of water, Hotch gets to his feet, holding onto the edges of the seats as he makes his way back, dropping into the seat next to Reid.

“Reid.”

Reid wakes up quickly, blinking rapidly. His lashes are long enough to brush his glasses, and Hotch reaches out and takes them off of him, folding the earpieces back and tucking them into the breast pocket of Reid’s suit jacket. “Hotch, what are you...”

“Shut up.” He rubs his jaw, feeling the rasp of stubble against his palm. “I thought we resolved this in California, but apparently we didn’t.”

“We didn’t resolve anything. I tried to get on with my life, and you decided you didn’t like that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Hotch takes Reid’s wrist in his hand, fingers closed loosely around it. He can feel the prominent bones move beneath the warm skin. He rubs his thumb over them and presses down.

“That’s not fair, Hotch.” Reid’s voice hitches, his breath catching on the words. “I have a right to have a life. J-just like you.”

“You don’t want a life like mine, Spencer.” He presses harder, watching the pain spark under Reid’s skin and flare out in the blanched white flesh, in the widening of Reid’s eyes. “This is what you want.”

“And I can’t have it.” He jerks his hand out of Hotch’s grip, cradling his wrist in his other hand as soon as it’s free. “I can’t have _you_.” He blinks hard, and Hotch can see the silver flash of tears, the residue of Hotch’s grip. “So you make a choice, Hotch. Because I’m not going to wait around for you. I’m not going to stop living my life because you’re busy living yours.”

“You’re going to find some random guy to hurt you? To choke you? You’re going to _trust_ someone else?”

Reid’s voice comes out like a hiss of venom. “How am I supposed to trust _you_ , Hotch? You were living a completely separate life and I didn’t know anything about it. You were having sex with someone else. You were falling for someone else.”

“It’s different.”

“Not for _me_.” Reid shakes his head. The bruise is already coming up on his wrist and he tugs his shirt sleeve down to hide it. “It’s not any different for me.”

**

Rossi drops Reid off first, then drives Hotch to his car at Quantico. They don’t talk in the car, some opera playing softly in the background and making conversation unnecessary. Rossi gets waved in by the gate guard and pulls his car up next to Hotch’s.

“I’ll be in early tomorrow and you can brief me on what cases are on docket,” Hotch says. “I want to get right back to work.”

“You sure? You can take a day off and be with Jack. See Beth. They’re both worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Good as new.”

“Aaron, think about who you’re talking to.”

“And you should think about who _you’re_ talking to, Dave.”

“I am. I’m talking to my friend who is a father, and has a son and a girlfriend who are very concerned about him, and would probably like to spend some time with him, especially since he’s been in the hospital.” Hotch opens his mouth and Rossi shakes his head. “Uh-uh-uh. You’re going home and you’re staying home tomorrow, which is Friday, and then the whole weekend. We’ll see you on Monday. Don’t make me have you thrown out of Quantico. It’ll be embarrassing for everyone.”

Hotch exhales and shakes his head. “Fine.”

“Good.” Rossi reaches in the back seat and grabs Hotch’s bag. “And Aaron?”

“Yeah?”

“I mean it. Go home. Rest. Play with your kid. Go on a date with your girlfriend. Pretend you’ve got a regular life for three days. All of this will still be here when you get back.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” He takes his bag and opens the passenger door. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.”

Hotch climbs out of the SUV and walks over to his car, unlocking it and tossing his bag onto the seat. He climbs in after it, turning on the car and locking the doors before Rossi drives off, his taillights bathing the parking lot in red. He turns the engine over. He knows he needs to head to Jack, to go home and breathe his son in until his world goes back on its correct axis, but as he pulls the car out of the parking space, he knows that’s not where he’s going.

**

Reid’s apartment isn’t nearly safe enough for Hotch’s tastes, but he’s learned that determination can be a lot stronger than the most expensive security system. He flashes his badge to the doorman. He gets a nod – he’s no stranger here – and takes the elevator to Reid’s floor. He knocks twice, sharp and hard, then leans against the door. “Let me in, Reid.”

The door opens just wide enough for the chain to snap taut. Reid’s standing there in his gray slacks, his dress shirt unbuttoned. Whatever bruises he’d had before have faded away, but Hotch can still see the new one, fresh around his wrist. “What are you doing here?”

“You know what I’m doing here.”

Reid closes his eyes and leans his head against the chain. Hotch doesn’t move, doesn’t give an inch, and after a moment Reid looks at him and then closes the door, unlatching the chain and then stepping back to let Hotch in. “This is the last time.”

“We’re not talking right now.” Hotch shuts the door and grabs Reid’s wrist again, twisting it and pulling him in, feeling him settle flush against Hotch’s chest. He can feel Reid’s pulse jump against his fingers as he backs him into the wall, his mouth covering Reid’s in a kiss as bruising as his grip.

Reid moans, opening his mouth to Hotch’s assault. His body arches, his cock hard against Hotch's thigh. It's not surrender, never quite surrender with Reid, but so good. Hotch feels his own blood hot in his veins, burning him up from the inside out. The pain in his head is gone, everything sharp and clear as he holds Reid tight against the wall, grinding into him.

"Yes," Hotch breathes, pulling back and tugging Reid toward him, pushing him ahead toward the bedroom. Reid stumbles and Hotch feels a surge of heat. He loves the awkwardness of Reid's body, the long limbs that seem like a tangle of angles and bones, sharp lines Hotch can use to cut him. Reid catches himself on the wall so he doesn't go to his knees, and Hotch growls, the sound rough and primal. The thought that he has to give this up, he _needs_ to give it up, let Reid go and belong to someone else who can touch him like this, who can make him beg for mercy and beg for more in the same breath makes Hotch angrier than he's been since Foyet invaded his home, invaded his life.

Reid turns, backing up toward the bed. "H-hotch." Reid's voice trembles as his legs against the edge of the mattress. Hotch reaches out and grabs Reid's tie, tugging him closer, tightening it until Reid's face is flushed, hot and almost swollen. Hotch shoves his thigh between Reid's legs, feeling the pulse of his cock, even harder now. Reid opens his mouth again, the edges of his lips darkening to purple. No sound comes out and Hotch kisses him hard, pushing Reid down onto the bed. His lips burn Hotch's mouth, slick like rubber, his tongue enlarged. He lets go of the tie and Reid tries to inhale in the kiss, his hands slapping and grabbing at the sheets.

Pulling back, Hotch jerks on the tie, forcing Reid onto his side before he pushes him facedown on the bed. He grabs Reid's shirt, hearing the fabric rip as he tugs it back over his shoulders, immobilizing Reid's arms behind his back. Reid moans breathlessly, the sound muffled by the bed. Hotch knows Reid's face is numb right now, and so he grabs the tie, forcing the knot hard against Reid's adam's apple as he pulls him back down onto the ground, sprawled helplessly at Hotch's feet.

The first slap echoes around the room like a gunshot, and Reid's head snaps to the left. Hotch drops to his knees, straddling Reid, and he slaps him again. There's a moment of resistance before Reid moves with the impact and the feel of it makes Hotch’s cock jerk, painfully hard in his slacks. He slaps Reid a few more times, backhanded and open-palmed, until a trickle of blood blossoms at the corner of Reid’s mouth, snaking down to his chin. Hotch kisses him again, licking the trail of blood and fucking the taste of it back into Reid’s mouth.

Reid arches up off the floor, the weight of his body on his shoulders as he lifts himself off his restrained arms and into Hotch’s body. He moans and wraps a leg over the back of Hotch’s, thrusting desperately. It takes willpower Hotch isn’t completely convinced he has to pull himself away and turn Reid onto his stomach, fumbling beneath him to get his slacks undone and off, pulling the briefs off roughly, letting them snap against Reid’s dick. Reid moans again, pain deepening the sound. Hotch ignores him, stripping his clothes away and spreading Reid’s legs, his knees holding them apart, holding him open.

“Look at you.”

Reid whimpers, digging his knees into the floor and raising his ass. It’s pale and smooth and Hotch doesn’t think, just slaps him again, mindless need driving him as he turns the skin pink and then red. Reid writhes at his touch, pressing back into his hand and jerking away. Hotch finally stops, breathing hard. His hand aches, his palm itching and as bright as Reid’s skin.

“H-ho-hotch. Please. Fuck, please.” Reid’s voice is broken, shattered with rough gasping sobs.

“Please what?” He doesn’t wait for Reid’s answer. He spreads Reid’s ass cheeks apart and leans in, sinking his teeth into the swell of flesh. Reid cries out sharply and Hotch bites harder, trying to make his teeth meet. Reed tries to squirm forward, but Hotch grabs his hips, holding him tightly, bruising sharply over his hipbones. He opens his jaw, staring at the white ridges of the imprint of his teeth. Reid is face down on the carpet, mouth open and soundless. Tears streak down his cheeks, leaving trails on his flushed skin. Reid sucks in a shuddering breath and Hotch bites again, away from the first bite so none of the sensation is dulled.

Reid chokes out a cry and struggles, his shirt ripping further. Hotch reaches up and pulls the shreds of it off of him, his hand curving around Reid’s elbow, his thumb rubbing over the faint scars he knows are there, the injection sites like silver-white slivers on Reid’s skin. Reid shudders and Hotch can feel the shift of his body as Reid sobs roughly and comes.

“No.” Hotch growls and bites the other cheek of Reid’s ass, pressing the thumb of his free hand against Reid’s opening. Reid sucks in air and smacks the floor twice with his hand, the sound almost lost in the rough squeak of his lungs.

Hotch sits back, wiping sweat from his face. His cock feels like a lead weight, his slacks tented with the bulge of it. He licks his lips, tasting Reid in his mouth as he tries to catch his breath. His hand curves over Reid’s ankle, and suddenly Reid is thin and delicate and fragile beneath him. Reid doesn’t try to move for a few long moments, and then he pulls himself up to his hands and knees. Hotch releases his grip on him and leans back, resting on his heels.

Reid turns slowly and looks up at Hotch. His eyes are bright, the color magnified through the film of tears, his face blotched and still slightly swollen. He looks used and debauched and Hotch’s cock jerks at the sight. “You’re mine.”

Crawling forward, Reid butts his head against Hotch’s erection, fingers uncoordinated and awkward as he tries to unfasten Hotch’s belt. He whines low in his throat and Hotch reaches down to help, pushing leather and fabric out of the way. Reid’s on his cock as soon as Hotch has his clothes out of the way, taking him deep and sucking him, mouth tight. He’s relentless and messy, spit and tears leaking over Hotch’s skin. It’s all instinct, animalistic and desperate, and it doesn’t stop when Hotch gasps, holding Reid’s face pressed against him as he comes down his throat.

It takes a slap to get Reid to pull back, his knees and arms giving out as if someone has cut the strings holding him up. He slumps down on his side, breathing heavily, muscles in his body undulating with quivers and small tics that make the goosebumps covering him dance.

Hotch exhales a shaky breath and sinks down, stretching his legs out in front of him. He kicks off his slacks and looks down at Reid, reaching out and sliding his hand down his arm. Reid shifts, burrowing in against Hotch’s thigh, his breath shivering along his skin. “It’s all right,” Hotch whispers softly. “It’s all right.” He cards his hand through Reid’s hair, combing the short strands and tugging when they get tangled around his fingers. “You’re all right. You’re so good.”

Reid whimpers and crawls closer, half on top of Hotch’s legs.

“So good, Spencer.” That earns a whole body shiver and Hotch wraps his arms around Reid, pulling him up and cradling him against his chest. “So good.” He runs a hand down Reid’s back, over the curve of his ass. He’s careful not to press on the bite marks, though his fingers graze over them and Reid jerks, gasping for breath. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He moves his hand back up to Reid’s back, careful to keep it above his waist despite the temptation to make him writhe more. Once Reid’s breathing has normalized, still shaky but regular, Hotch manages to get them both to their feet, leading Reid into the bathroom. He holds Reid against him as he turns the shower on, his arm tight around Reid’s waist as he tests the water, waiting for heat to fall on his skin. As soon as it does, he shrugs out of his shirt and guides Reid into the stall, supporting him and letting Reid whimper and buck against him as the water hits tender, exposed flesh.

Once he’s got Reid rinsed off, Hotch steps out of the shower, letting Reid lean against the wall as Hotch dries himself off. After that he folds Reid into the towel, taking care to just pat the red and swollen areas of his ass, to trace the faint red marks and bruises on his face with the edge of the fabric. “Okay?”

Reid nods, letting out a shaky breath. Hotch can see the tension coiled in his muscles still, even though at this point Reid should be relaxed and loose and sprawled on his bed, listening to the distant sound of Hotch’s voice. “Yeah. You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m not going to. I have to get home to Jack.” Hotch feels Reid stiffen even more and he kisses him softly on the temple. “So let’s get you dressed in something semi-comfortable so you can come with me.”

“To your house? What about...what about Jack? And B-beth?”

“Beth’s at her house. Jack’s asleep. I’ll tell him you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you home. He’ll be gentle with you.” He smiles, making it clear that gentle is something Reid shouldn’t get used to. “Come on.”

“But...”

“Reid.” Hotch’s tone brooks no argument and Reid nods quickly, moving into the bedroom. Hotch watches him walk, unsteady and tender and gorgeous, the marks so bright on his pale skin. He dresses himself as Reid tugs on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt then pulls a sweater on over it. Reid shoves his feet into slippers and waits, biting his lip in anticipation as Hotch looks him over. “Good boy.”

Reid relaxes, and Hotch can see that all the tension’s draining away now. He guides Reid out to the car, helping him into the front seat and reveling in the sharp hiss as Reid’s ass touches the leather. He drives with one hand on the wheel and the other on Reid’s thigh, his fingers scratching lightly at the flannel, pinching whenever Reid’s eyes drift closed.

When they get to Hotch’s house, Reid’s cock is hard again. Hotch pulls into the garage and reaches over, tugging Reid’s pants down and flicking his finger against Reid’s dick until it shrinks, the head slick and Reid gasping and slamming his head against the seat, gasping Hotch’s name. Hotch releases him and snaps the pajamas back in place, getting out and grabbing his bag. “Come on.”

Reid has to hang onto the car as he walks, then the wall to support himself up the stairs and into the house. Hayley’s sister, Jessica, is asleep in the downstairs guest room, so Hotch guides Reid upstairs and into Jack’s room. “I...” Reid whispers and Hotch silences him with a shake of his head, guiding Reid onto the bed. Jack shifts and mumbles something, and Hotch starts talking to him, ignoring Reid as he gets settled.

“Hey, sport. Is it okay if Spencer hangs in here with you tonight? Dad’s gonna sit in that chair right there and look out for you both, okay?”

Jack nods sleepily and snuggles into his pillow, pulling Hotch’s hand under his cheek. “Okay, Daddy. Night, Spencer.”

Spencer looks over Jack’s shoulder at Hotch, his eyes reflecting brightly in the faint light from the hall, tears spiking his lashes. “Night, Jack.” His breath hitches, his voice threatening to break. “Night, Hotch.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”  



End file.
